


Of Abelard and Heloise

by agirlnamedtruth, weekendgothgirl



Category: The Borgias (2011)
Genre: Angst, Barebacking, Blindfolds, Bondage, Catholic Guilt, Come Marking, Cunnilingus, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Guilt, Incest, Infidelity, Knifeplay, Religious Guilt, Roleplay, Rope Bondage, Sensory Deprivation, Sexual Roleplay, Sibling Incest, Woman on Top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2018-03-10 15:22:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3295286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agirlnamedtruth/pseuds/agirlnamedtruth, https://archiveofourown.org/users/weekendgothgirl/pseuds/weekendgothgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Then there is no more left but this, that in our doom the sorrow yet to come shall be no less than the love we two have already known.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Abelard and Heloise

**Author's Note:**

> Set during Cesare's visit to Naples in 3x06. Written for the [Kink Bingo](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/) prompt "sensory deprivation".

At first, Cesare was sure he was dreaming. The soft touch of a hand against his skin, running through his hair, tightening its grip as lips gently pressed against his cheek. It wasn’t so different to a number of dreams he often had but what awoke him was the scent of her, of Lucrezia, unmistakable under the lingering smell of gunpowder, fireworks, smoke. Remembering where he was, in her palace in Naples, he opened his eyes but all he saw was darkness. A false darkness, like that of hands covering his eyes, not that of a star dotted sky or a shadowed room. He raised his hand but another caught it, the same soft skin he’d felt a hundred times before but promised himself, and her, that he never would again. She had a husband and he a wife, though neither could deny the harsh and true words spoken earlier in the night of such matters.

“Your husband? he asks Lucrezia, certain as he was it was her. 

“He sleeps, soundly as a lamb, as do I,” she answers without hesitation. “As do you and your wife, in France.”

“So what game is this then?” he counters.

“Game, brother?” Lucrezia caresses Cesare’s strong jaw with her breath as she talks, face close to his. Softly she strokes his eyelids even as she keeps the light from reaching him, “Perhaps it’s not a game at all.”

“If not a game then…” He reaches for her hands but she refuses to let him take them. “What is it?”

“It’s something much more than that.” Stroking his eyelids again, she leans down to whisper into his ear. “Once I take my hands away, you must keep your eyes closed until I bid you to open them again. Promise me, Cesare.”

“If you ask it, then I am blind,” he promises, closing his eyes tight shut, resisting the temptation to open them, ignoring his own curiosity at her actions. In his mind he could see her, crouched on the bed beside him, her white nightdress the symbol of the purity she lost a long time ago and then lost again to him not long past. Her hands fell away from his face, brushing against his lips as they did so. He catches one hand in his own, bringing it back up to his lips to kiss. 

“You said I could not look, not that I could not touch,” he indemnifies himself before she has a chance to chastise him.

She looks down at her brother fondly, she cannot find it in herself to chastise him when she enjoys it so much. “You speak the truth.”

Reaching out, she picks up the dark silk scarf from where she has placed it upon Cesare’s bed. Slowly, teasingly she slides the luxurious material along her brother’s cheek before tying it around his eyes. She presses a chaste kiss to the bottom of the scarf and then to the corner of his mouth, lingering for a moment.

"If this is no game, why does it feels an awful lot like your games of hiding?" Cesare asks, a smile twisting on his lips. He lets her have her game though, not fighting the blindfold or the disadvantage it puts him at. He reaches out to her, desperate to feel what he cannot see. His hand connects to soft flesh, the curve of her breast but she takes it away as quickly as he has felt it, almost before he had processed what he had touched. "If it is, then it is only fair I know the rules."

“It’s simple, dear brother, whatever happens that blindfold must stay on.” Licking her lips, Lucrezia settles against Cesare, hands on his shoulders waiting for his acknowledgement.

Cesare frowns, he would never deny her anything, let alone something so simple but he can't help but wonder what she has planned. "Why, my love?"

“Trust me, my dear brother.” Carefully she arranges herself beside him, her legs curled under her while she lays her head on his chest. She can hear the comforting sound of his heart which brings a smile to her face. “Whatever happens this blindfold shall be your comfort.”

"As you wish," he agreed, though he still didn't understand her motives in blindfolding him. Not being able to see was torture, as he felt her hands on his skin, the weight of her head on his chest. He knew it was her, there was no question of that but without looking into her eyes, he could not divine what was going through her mind. He could not anticipate what she needed to hear.

“Good.” Softly she moves to straddle Cesare, fingers trailing over his face and tracing his structure. “At this moment, dear brother, I could be anyone you desire. Anyone that you lust after.” 

Leaning down she kisses him softly, humming happily as his lips chase hers of their own volition, rather than pulling away from her, as she had grown accustom to. The plan she thought up last night, as she lay awake under the unforgiving moon was so simple that at first she thought it couldn’t work. Then the more she thought of it, the more she thought that perhaps simple was best. He has told her they cannot be together but if he can’t see her, then he can’t be with her. He is with some other woman, one he would lay with without a second thought.

"And if the one I desire is..." he considers his words carefully. "Out of my reach, what then?"

Regardless of his words, he can't stop himself from kissing her, from responding to her touch. His fingers toy with the hem of the nightdress he cannot see with his eyes but can picture so clearly in his mind, the one she wore when she first came into his bed. Although she claims he could imagine anyone, he will only ever see her.

Whispering against his lips, she presses kisses to his warm flesh between words. “If they are out of your reach they cannot be worth much, but tonight believe me when I tell you, no one is beyond you. Any woman could be here, willing and wanton. All you need to do is believe it.”

Moving down his body slightly she presses sucking kisses onto his throat, the slight sting of teeth making him jump but he doesn’t move to stop her. Her blood feels hot in her veins, thoughts frenzied but she maintains her calm. It wouldn’t do to lose herself when she’s so close to what they both want.

He swallows, feeling her teeth still pressing against his Adam's apple as he does so. If he could have anyone, he would have her but they had agreed, such a thing was impossible. And yet, she contradicted the impossible, the feel of her body beneath his hands, under her nightdress proved he could have her, if she wanted. 

"Lucrezia," he whispers, risking the game for a single affirmation that she truly knew what she was doing.

Lucrezia hums in the dim light as she presses a finger to his lips. “Hush my love. I’m whoever you want me to be. Make me your Heloise if you so wish it.”

She grants him a moment to becalm his mind before moving his hands under her nightdress. Her eyes close for a moment as his rough hands slide over the soft skin of her thighs.

He can't help but smile, remembering how she loved that tale, and all her tales of tragic love doomed to fail. He could not tell her that she was the maiden in his own tragic love story. He understood now, why the game. If he would deny her his love then perhaps Heloise could have her Abelard. He tightened his grip on her thighs, nails biting into delicate skin as he surpassed her guidance, moving to cup her arse, pull her closer to him until not even the very air could get between them.

"Very well, my Heloise, what would you have me teach you?"

“I want to learn about human existence. I want to know what makes life worth living, our purpose.” Smiling triumphantly, she cups his cheek and murmurs softly in his ear. “I want to know all you can teach me, my Abelard.”

He smiled bitterly, leaning into her touch. "Then I will be a terrible teacher because my answer is you."

Shaking her head, Lucrezia drags her nails down Cesare’s sides. Pressing her lips against her brother’s ear she whispers sweetly, “That is not how the game is played.”

Pulling back, she thinks for a moment before adding, “No. That would make you the best teacher, please Abelard, teach me.”

He has to stop himself from laughing, fully understanding the game she desired to play. “First, my love, you must forget everything else. Who you are, what is at stake, how this will end. Only then, when the only thing that you can think about is the breath caught in the throat of the one you love as you threaten a kiss...” He caught her chin in his hands, lips brushing hers without kissing her until she had no choice but to breathe out again. “Only then can you learn what it truly is to live.”

Exhaling slowly she nods against Cesare’s face. “Yes,” she breathes, pleased to see that her brother finally understands the game she wishes to play. “I want you to teach me everything.” After a long moment she finally closes the distance and presses her lips gently against Cesare’s. 

He knows it goes against everything he’s said but her game forgives such notions as who they really are and why they cannot be together. Though he could never forget who she was, for a moment, lost on her lips, he could pretend that the ties that bound him to her were anything but familial. He deepens the kiss, safe in the belief that she truly wants to be someone else for a while, someone who can be kissed as passionately as he would kiss her, if allowed, someone who would be as consumed with love for her as Abelard was for Heloise. Unable to see her, he mapped out her face from memory, fingers caressing her cheek, pushing her hair back from her face and holding it there, a mass of golden curls that he could only see in his mind.

She leans against his touch, revelling in the sensations that he’d robbed her of. Cesare and his beautiful mind but so wrapped in guilt. Twisting her head a little she presses a kiss to his forearm, lips parted slightly. “Abelard,” she breathes as she embodies the role of Heloise, a necessary facade to allow them this time together.

Her whisper echoes in his head where his other senses are lacking, he feels her skin more acutely, every goose bump and every imperfection that only he knows. The press of her kisses is feather-light and each one lands unpredictably on his skin. He longs to touch her properly, feel her heart beating in her chest, at the pulse point in her neck but as soon as his fingers find her, she has spirited away again. Again and again he tries to touch her and she smiles as she dodges his hands. As much as she wants to feel his hands caress her form she will not let him though, she has other plans for tonight.

Finally she allows him to catch her, allows him a moment to feel her before grasping his hands in hers. “Abelard, do you trust me?”

"Of course," he agrees without hesitation. "With my life, you know that."

Leaning down she hides her smile, despite Cesare being unable to see it and kisses him softly. “I know, my love.” 

Pressing back against her brothers hands, she enjoys the feeling of him encompassing her warmly before the next step. Carefully she reaches behind her to grasp his wrists, pulling his hands away from herself and pushing his arms back against the pillows. 

“Stay,” she murmurs, tapping his arms. 

Obeying her to the letter, Cesare keeps his hands away from her though doing so caused him an almost physical agony. Though he’d denied himself the pleasure of touching her intimately since her wedding night, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been denied touching her, even in the most innocent ways. But he held back now, for her, because she’d asked it of him and the delicate balance between them relied on her actions, her words. 

“And now?” he asked, unable to see her next move and unable to predict her course of action with his hands.

“Patience, Abelard.” She places a finger to his lips to ease his tongue, warm, slick flesh pressed against her own flesh. Teasingly she slides her finger down over his chin before leaning over to tangle her fingers in the curtains around his bed. Glancing down to check on Cesare, she tugs at the tie and watches the curtain flutter closed. A moment later she slips her finger tips over the silky material, tie caught in her grasp.

Turning back to face him, Lucrezia quickly ties his wrists to the bedstead. Fingers trailing along soft skin. His first instinct is to panic, to pull his hands away but he lets her tie them, knowing she means him no harm. 

“Is this how you like me then, Heloise, powerless to touch you?” Although it’s a jest, there is a seriousness to his tone that truly asks why he has been denied his hands when he wants nothing more than to worship her with them, to feel her body arch beneath them again, to caress her warm skin like she was any other lover come into his bed.

“I wish to take my time and learn about you, before you learn of me. It is only fair, my teacher.” Tugging at the ropes to test the knots, she leans close, her breasts brushing close to his face.

Testing the ropes as she had, he feels it is anything but fair but he lets her have her way, biting his tongue to stop anything he might say to ruin her fun. Whispering in his ear she adds, “It’ll be worth everything you are thinking of.” 

Sliding down her brother’s body, she snags the covers that lay over him from the waist down. Slowly she uncovers him, letting him feel every inch that she removes from his form and savours the bare skin that she finds. Once she has him uncovered she climbs over his legs, straddling his thighs and strokes over his hips. Her eyes taking every inch of him in, every part that he had forbidden to her as Lucrezia but was hers as Heloise. She can’t go back now and she wouldn’t want to.

Feeling her hands on him but being unable to touch her in return was maddening at first but with his options limited by her bonds, there was a peace to be had. He didn’t need to fight the urges she brought forth in him, he didn’t need to keep her at a distance or pull away after coming too close. He let his head rest against the same frame he was tied to, helpless to save her from the implications of her touches, the meaning of them. All he could do was let her learn as she wished to.

Reverently, she moves her hand down to stroke across his cock, after all this time separated, she can touch her brother like this, and it is all too easy for Cesare to get lost in the feel of her delicate hands.

“Abelard,” she swallows, “How can you bear to keep this beauty from the world?” 

She touches and explores not just his cock but the rest of his body. Hands flowing over the muscles of his arms, his chest, teasing at his nipples. Fingertips following the shape of his waist and hips, the crease of his thighs and curve of his testicles. She relishes the different sensations now open to her, even as she feels the urge to move on and do more.

The feel of her fingers dancing over his skin is enough to have him hard for her, let alone the feel of her body pressed against his, the weight of her settled in his lap, the thin fabric of her nightdress tickling his bare skin, making him want to rip it from her but he stays his hand for her, lets her tease him as she explores.

She watches enchanted as he hardens in her hands and through her touch. Although she is no stranger to men and their bodies, this is something more. This is the love of her life, her brother. The one she thought lost to her. She is going to enjoy every second of their time, she may never get another chance after all, her brother is... guilt stricken and scared to let go.

“Abelard, what do you wish of me?” Almost coyly she strokes over his cock from tip to root and she watches amused as he shudders from her touch.

“Everything,” he admits through clenched teeth and ragged breath, as though the word had fought to be freed from his mind.

Biting her lip, she lays down over his legs, head on his hip and lips mere inches from his sensitive cock. “Abelard, I want to give everything. I want to take it too. I want your knowledge, your teachings.” She watches as his cock jerks out of time as she breathes on the warm, slick flesh. She can see how much he wants her and it pleases her to no end. He’s the only man she has ever wanted completely, mind, body and soul. She can almost taste his desperation, so much so that she doesn’t hold back any longer. Slowly she pokes out her tongue, the tip just grazing him. His taste still collects on her and it’s greater than any fine wine or dish. She takes more of him inside her mouth as she tries to ignore the memories of those before.

His bindings pull tight against his wrists as he reaches out for her, to run his fingers through her perfect golden curls and hold them back from her face but he cannot. Instead he imagines her, her plump pink lips and nimble tongue, the lips from which he would have only allowed himself the barest of kisses, encircling his cock, innocent blue eyes shining with mischief as they so often did when she could see his thoughts as plain as if they were written on his face. He wondered, now, unable to look into his eyes, would she be able to divine his mind as easily as she usually could.

Glancing up at her brother, she watches him strain at his bonds and try in vain to free himself. She hums happily around his cock as she sucks and licks at him. She can imagine how he feels now; still it’s not a shade towards how she has felt. Head bobbing shallowly she thinks of all the times she has laid in bed imagining this, eyes wide and sleepless. 

Pulling away from his cock, she watches it glisten for a moment and listens to the sounds her Abelard makes. Names catch on his tongue, her true name forbidden to him and any other name seeming unfaithful. Without the heat of her mouth, he can think clearly, think about where she is leading them, down this road again, a road of mortal sin that Cesare has often walked down, in darkness and alone but although still kept in the dark, he is not alone any longer. She is determined to sin with him, for him and though he should, he cannot think of stopping her, he cannot think of anything but her, shrouded as she is in her fairytale of impossible love.

Lucrezia mouths along her brother’s chest, one hand around his cock and the other tangled in his beautiful curls. Finally she cannot hold back any longer, she presses herself against his hip, sure he can feel how much she wants him inside her.

“Abelard? I would very much like to move on to the next lesson.” She teases over his cock, testicles and the warm flesh of his groin.

He swallows, knowing he’d told himself over and over that he would never know her in such a way again but faced with the reality, he can’t refuse her, he can’t even begin to. “Then do so, my Heloise. I am yours to do with as you see fit, after all.”

He pulls on the ropes, to prove his inability to take matters further himself, relief to his conflicting conscience. Perhaps the years would have passed easier had his hands been tied every time he longed to touch her, to kiss her.

Taking him at his word, Lucrezia presses a chaste kiss to Cesare's lips, a promise of more to come for her beloved.

For a moment she thinks of discarding her nightdress but thinks better of it. It would take too long and it wouldn't get in the way.

Kneeling upright she shifts herself down a little, until she straddles his hips. Now she is sure he must feel the need in her cunt, as much as she can feel his need.

Pushing her nightdress aside, she grasps his prick firmly and lowers herself upon it. Her back bows and her head flings back as he fills her. Pleasure floods through her as he fills her completely and she has to take a moment to just feel him inside her. He's the only man that can make her feel this good.

She surrounds him, her hands braced on his body, her scent all over his skin and her cunt tight around his cock like she'd never known a man before. All the stress of politics, of life, of her marriage and his fell away into silence, where the only sounds that could break through were the ones she made. He pushed his hips up, burying himself deeper inside her, meeting her as she rocked against him. How cruel God was for only letting him find peace in her arms, in her body, in places that should be forbidden to him.

She groans and moves with him wantonly. The name she wants to whisper into the still night trembles on her lips but she forces it down. They are not themselves tonight. Instead they are two others, a cruel but essential trade for what they are doing.

Her nails trail over his chest as he jolts beneath her, surprisingly a moan from deep inside her body. "Abelard. Oh my beloved."

She swallows down the countless other things she wishes to tell him. Now is not the time. Instead she places her hands on his chest to anchor herself before moving slowly, teasingly.

Kissing up the line from her elbow to her shoulder, he finds her neck, burying his face in her hair as he bites down possessively and kissing the tender skin better. If he could not claim her with his eyes or his touch, he would make her his with his mouth, his kisses and his words.

"Sweet Sister Heloise," he whispered in her ear, twisting the meaning of sister to fit her make believe. "When the ties that bind are no longer, I will teach you such things that a pure soul could never dream. Things that will make this life seem trivial so long as you will have me and I, you. And I would have everything, everything you would give me. I would break these bonds in a second if you wished it, for I fear salacious words only last lovers so long as they cannot have each other truly and I would have you now, in this bed and in this instant before our Abelard and Heloise's love turns tragedy and we are separated again."

He breathes in shakily, his head swimming with his thoughts as though they were the strongest wine consumed in great gulps, chased with her lips on his, her chest full against his, her fingers digging into his flesh, her cunt barely relenting to him.

She stills, chest heaving and breath quickening under the weight of his words. The pain in her shoulder dimming as she strokes across his face. "Such beautiful words slipping from even more beautiful lips."

Leaning down she whispers against her brother’s ear, lips lightly grazing the flesh as she speaks. "I would want that. Want you to give me your all, teach me the things that no good girl should know." Grinning she grinds against him, hips flex as she moves, "But not yet. That bond is not going to be untied yet; I wish to have you a little longer."

He smiles at that, he knew it would not be so easy. Instead then, he wraps his hands around the frame he is secured to, his knuckles white with the force of keeping himself under control for her. Just a little while longer, he reminds himself, then he would be free to touch her as he longed to.

Lucrezia bites her lip as she moves, fingers curled around her brother’s chest. In this moment she feels whole, loved as she should be. Tilting her head back she gasps in pleasure as she lets herself go, moving more frantically on her Abelard's cock.

He can hear her breathing, each rush of quickly drawn breath echoing in his ears, each moan a cascade of notes, as though she really were a holy woman singing her praises of God. He closes his eyes, though the blindfold shut off all light regardless. 

_So, love and marriage, are they incompatible?_ He remembered the fear in her eyes that day and he'd tried to break her heart as gently as possible. _No but I have been told that one does not imply the other._ He could almost laugh, the cruel twist of fate such a thought had become. How, now, she could reconcile her marriage with Alfonso and her love for him. Still, he could imagine the child that had thought it terribly sad, who lowered her eyes when life itself proved terribly sad and that only serves to make him more determined now.

As she moves she can feel the intense desire he holds for her. She can feel his need to feel her beneath his hands and body through the flex of his muscles when he pulls at his bonds or quells the desire to do so.

Slowing her thrusts against him, she realises that she wants to feel him now. She can't break this spell though or she'll lose him.

Grinding against him instead, she runs her hands across his chest and along his arms. Her chest brushing across his and the thin nightdress might as well not be there. Her nipples, hard and ignored suddenly pulse with pleasure. Gripping the rope around Cesare's wrists she gasps with the shock of it. As she does, she can feel his reaction and it urges her to continue.

As the rope tenses, so does Cesare. He knows he should hold out for her, wait for her little charade to be over but he can't keep himself back, he can't pretend it isn't her, not when her words echo through his mind like she only spoke them moments ago. _Did they love each other?_

Moving against her brother again, she grasps his wrists tighter. She half regrets tying him down now, she'd like to have him touching her.

Sensing her resolve weakening, he pulls at the ropes again. "Please, my love."

Lucrezia hesitates for a moment caught between her wants. “Will you keep your blindfold on?"

"Of course," he promises, breathing shakily as relief floods him. "My word is my word."

"Stay still my love, I wouldn't want you to get hurt." With a smile she looks over her brother before leaning over to grasp the dagger from where she had made sure she'd left it. Shifting, she gasps, Cesare's cock brushing something inside her, brushing everything else from her mind for a moment.

Blinking back to herself she drags the dagger over his bare chest delicately. He breathes sharply in, his instincts warring inside him, screaming danger and death but he knows she will not hurt him. With every muscle tense and his chest burning from holding his breath, all he can focus on is the cold of the blade, the heat of her body and the idea of touching her.

Silently the blade whispers over her brother’s right shoulder, trailing over the vulnerable exposed flesh of his arm before carefully cutting the rope from his wrist. Leaning down she presses a kiss to the marked skin before repeating everything on the left.

He waits to hear the sound of the blade being laid down before he moves, just in case he puts himself in its path. As soon as he is sure her hands are empty, he takes them in his own, kissing them, palms spread upwards. It was almost as though he couldn’t believe they were her hands, after every promise they’d made not to give into this feeling again. And he knew, if he was going to honour those promises, he would have let her hands drop away from him but he couldn’t do it, he could only pull her closer.

Sighing she allows herself to be pulled against him, her breasts pressed against his skin and the nightdress barely feels like it's there. Her peaked nipples pushing against fabric but she feels her brother’s chest hard against her once more.

As much as she focuses on that, she cannot ignore the thrill of the way he took her hands, as if she was a goddess worthy of worship. A priceless object to be pursued and forsaking all others.

Favouring one hand over the other, he kisses over the paler, more delicate skin on the underside of her forearm, following it up until her nightdress stopped him from going further. Pulling it open at the neck, he slipped it off her shoulder, resuming his path downwards from her neck over her collarbone until again, he could go no further.

He catches the material between his teeth, biting it possessively. “I would rip this into a thousand pieces; tear it asunder, if you did not have to climb back into his bed.”

She makes a noise, low and soft and perhaps a little wistful but she isn't sure. For all the power she has over her brother she doesn't always know what he has over her. Ignoring the sound she made she wraps a hand around the back of her brother’s head, protective yet challenging.

"I wish you could, brother, but we must all play our parts. You know this." She tugs playfully at the material between his teeth before continuing, "Still my love, there are other things you can do."

His teeth let go of her nightdress, taking it in his hands instead. “And if I play the gentle Abelard, might I feel your skin beneath my hands, naked as God intended you to be.”

Thoughtfully, almost calculating she watches him. This isn't the way they were going to do this now. Shaking her head she cups his face, "I will not take anything less than you now you have told me how you feel. If however you feel you must borrow some of Abelard’s strength to calm your passion, I will not turn you away."

Softly she strokes across his lips before pulling away to gently stroke soft fingertips over his hands.

He lets her move his hands under her nightdress, slipping it over her head as delicately as if it were cloth of gold. When she is bare, he pulls her in tight, feeling every inch of her skin pressed to his, fingers coming up to tangle in her golden curls. Like a man blind, he mapped her out the only way he could before he pulled himself free of her embrace and turned the tables on her, flipping her onto her back.

The breath escapes Lucrezia's lungs as her brother pushes her into the bed. For a moment she stares up at him wide eyed before giggling freely. He can feel she is askew on the bed, her head far from the pillow but he will not right her, not as her predicament is the fault of the blindfold. Instead, committed, he pushes into her one final time before forsaking the heat of her cunt for a better prize. Something he had dared not ask for before.

"I would taste you, _sweet_ sister," he says as he kisses over her belly and the arch of her hip, making his home between her parted thighs. 

"Cesare..." Lucrezia tangles her fingers into her brother’s hair, shivering as his breath hits her warm flesh.

He closes his eyes against the harsh darkness of the blindfold. At the sound of his name, falling from her lips so wantonly, he finally understands why she’d blindfolded him, why she’d forbidden him the sight of her, the knowledge that it was her that spoke in such a way. Though he had tried, it was getting harder and harder to deny his love for her and how obsessively he’d been thinking about her, how his determination to not drag her down with him only made her rise higher in his dreams, imagining this very scene over and over. And though he wishes it wouldn’t, guilt still splits his soul in two, the half that wanted to save his sister and the half that wanted to devour her, consume her, possess her. It’s the gentle rise of her hips that sways the balance for tonight, making him stay true to his word and taste her as he longed to, his final kiss placed gently on her clit.

Gasping at the first touches against her cunt, Lucrezia's hips buck up. Her brother’s name spills from her lips again even as a part of her admires the way he looks between her legs.

Her hand guides him and blindly he follows, quickening when her grip tightens, slowing when it slackens and moving a touch left, a touch lower with the pressure of her nails against his scalp, a tiny scratching pain that keeps him grounded.

In turn, his hands push her hips down keeping her anchored to the bed, thumbs leaving pressure marks as licks over her clit, as tortuously slowly as she had teased him. He wondered if her resolve, her self-control would last as long as his had. She had always taken what she wanted, impulsively, without fear or hesitation, just as she had taken him. All she need do was reach out, and he was surely hers.

"Cesare," Lucrezia murmurs again, losing herself in his touch. Maddening as it is, it feels like the last part of her coming home. Gently she curls her fingers deeper into his dark hair, strands sliding through her grip as she moves against his hands and lips. "How do I taste dear brother?"

He laughs lowly against the lips of her cunt. She tastes like judgement day, like a great reckoning between them, like being cast down into hell where every sin was delicious and to be indulged and though the thought was strangely comforting to him, he knew she liked her stories to be sweet, even her tragedies, even her doomed romances. “Like Heloise must have tasted to Abelard. Like God.”

Laughing a little breathlessly, she writhes under his touch even as she urges him back up her body. His words fill her blood with fire as she decides to kiss the taste of herself from his lips and tongue.

Their mouths just brush each others as she whispers, "I would be a kinder, fairer god than He with you at my alter." He sounds as though he's about to reply but she closes the last of the distance and tastes them both on her brother’s breath. She simply couldn't wait any longer and she isn't used to holding back when she has what she wants.

“Lucky it is then,” he starts, words crashing against her lips between kisses, “That I have been delivered unto thee. Should I have realised you’d declared yourself a deity, I could have worshipped you sooner.”

He nipped at her bottom lip to let her know he was playing with her, taking her heavy words and turning them light for her, so she didn’t have to tell him it was alright, that come morning, he would have to forsake her too as he had forsaken God. Because the world hadn’t been fair nor kind, not to them and he couldn’t bear her to speak that truth out loud, not when she would have them hide behind more temperate lies. Not when for a night at least, he could change that truth.

“Would you trust me as I have trusted you, my love?”

Licking her lips she tastes Cesare as she nods. As if he need ask tonight, after all she has trusted him with already, what more could he ask that she wouldn't give?

Her fingers trail across his flushed cheek and she whispers hotly into the air between them. "Of course my love, to the death."

“Only a little death,” he promises, pulling her hair back and holding it together in his hands. “Close your eyes.”

She watches him for a moment before closing her eyes softly. "It is done, brother."

Kneeling up, he reaches up for his blindfold and pulls it loose. Holding it between them he keeps his eyes closed, not completely breaking his promise.

"Find my hands, my love," he instructs and she brushes her fingers up his arms until she finds his hands, crushing the ends of the blindfold between them. "It is nothing between us, if we don't believe the lie. We simply change the truth."

He pushes forward, the blindfold against both their eyes as he kisses her. "Come morning, a blindfold will make no difference. Would you have it make a difference now? Would you have me every other way but with your eyes? Would I leave here any less tormented by your face for not seeing it this night? Tie it again, if you wish, but over whose eyes? Who would you deprive of this truth, you or I? Did Heloise and Abelard not wish a thousand times that they were anyone else? Did that make it any easier for them? Tie it, my love or let me have one more night of truth and a more honest lie come dawn."

He lets go of the blindfold and sits back on his heels, eyes closed as if in prayer, as if he still had the strength to beg her forgiveness for wanting her so much.

Lucrezia lays silently, fingers stroking over the material between them as she considers Cesare's words. She cannot blame him for wanting to see her, she would feel the same if their positions were reversed. She wanted to ease his pain and guilt but perhaps he wanted to own that too.

"Do you truly wish to see me?"

"More than I can pretend I don't," Cesare admitted. "I wish we were not cursed to be who we are, just as I wish I could give you back the innocent girl you used to be. But I cannot go back. I am cursed in every way. So if it is for my benefit that you are Heloise, I beg you to be yourself. For you, I would be anyone you wish, but I cannot have anyone except you, right now, your husband be fucked and God be damned."

He surges forward again, finding her lips with his, finding her waist with his fingers, cock resting harmlessly against her wet cunt, ready to take her again as himself at her word. 

Lucrezia doesn't need to hear anymore, her brother spoke from the heart. Pulling away from the kiss, she nibbles at his lower lip and tugs the blindfold from between them and drops it to the ground beside his bed.

"Dear brother." She kisses over his neck to his ear, her breath warming her lips as she speaks. "I have never needed anyone else. I did this all for you but if you insist on seeing me as I am how can I refuse? Do what you wish with all your senses."

At first, the soft light of the candles seems blinding but he finds her eyes and focuses on them, drinking in the blue as though it was truly water. Her golden hair like spun sugar against the white sheets, her skin flushed and pink where his cock was still lazily pressed against her clit. Every sense was consumed by her, for having been deprived of the sight of her. He could hear each breath as it left her, touch the skin that burned for him, smell the salt sweat on her skin and taste her still on his tongue. Holding it all in his memory for when he'd be parted from her again, he takes her again, sliding smoother than before into her cunt, as though the gods were giving him permission, making it easy for him to give himself up to her.

With a gasp, Lucrezia wraps her arms around Cesare as he enters her again, hips bucking up. She captures his eyes and she feels raw, exposed beneath his gaze. The way he looks at her as if she's a gift from God himself should scare her but it just excites her. Her blood heats as her nails bite into his flesh.

It's so easy to get lost in her but he can't risk forgetting himself. No matter how much he wants to, he can't mark her, he can't come inside her. Instead it's the sheets that he drags his nails over; it's his own skin he sinks his teeth into as he fucks her, all gentle thoughts gone from their minds, turned into simple needs, animal needs. He can feel her knees press into his hips, her arms around his neck, clinging so tight it hurt in just the right way.

Lucrezia can feel the effort Cesare puts into keeping her pristine in his eyes. The knowledge wars in her breast, she knows he is right but she can't help but feel sadness at him doing so. She wishes she could wear his marks to remind her of this night but instead she forces the notion to the back of her mind. Even as she tries to forget she leans up to sink her teeth onto her brother’s neck, tasting the slope where the neck meets his shoulder. If he cannot mark her she'll mark him enough for them both.

The sharp pain of her teeth runs hot through him and he grabs her hand to stop himself matching her passion. Her nails leave half moon dents in the back of his hand but he settles for merely holding her down on the bed, stealing her other hand so she is caught beneath him, only able to rise up and meet him with heaves of her chest and the roll of her hips.

He knows she would not remain tamed for long but he was so close, he had to pull back control for a moment or halt it all. The twinkle in her eyes and the gentle curve of her lips as she submitted to him told him she was on the brink too, too close to challenge him for a moment at least.

Lip caught between her teeth she stares a challenge up at him even as she stays pinned to the bed beneath him. Her hips move with her brother’s rhythm and she turns her head to kiss at his right wrist. She imagines his pulse beating fast against her lips and sighs. She can't rid herself of the need to mark Cesare as hers. To feel him shudder beneath her lips, teeth, tongue and hands.

Cesare's resolve stutters, as the fatal moment approaches. He buries his face in Lucrezia's neck, inhaling her hair for the last time as he forces himself to pull back, sitting up on his knees between her legs, replacing his cock with his fingers, hoping they are enough for her as he has given all he can without risking a child upon her.

"Come for me, my love, as I may not," Cesare pleaded, crooking his fingers inside her, rubbing her clit firmly with his thumb.

A small frown creases her forehead, Cesare's words worrying her even as his actions push her further towards completion. She can feel the ache of her clit and the full feeling in her cunt from his clever fingers. Grinding down against him, her head tips back, mouth open as in silent prayer as she comes. Her fingers drag over the soft skin of Cesare's back as her body shudders.

He watches as pleasure washes over her body, his fingers working independently of his brain, too busy making comparisons between her and St Teresa, caught between ecstasy and agony. When she stilled, eyes barely focused on him, he pulled back, licking his fingers clean, unable to resist tasting her one last time.

She lies still as the last of her pleasure shudders through her. Blinking up at Cesare she watches him clean his fingers of her with a soft moan. Reaching for him she pulls him down into a languid kiss, hands running down her brothers sides. She feels strong muscles shifting where she presses before grasping his slick cock. She hums in satisfaction as he shakes above her, she may not be able to have him empty inside her, but he can still mark her in one way.

Caught by surprise as he is, he catches a glance at her body as he comes, white painting her breasts as he falls apart, falls away from her, back onto the bed. His first impulse is to clean her, make her decent again but she catches his hand.

"No." She strokes over the pulse in his wrist before raising it to her lips. She kisses him reverently, feeling the comforting beat of his heart through the thin skin.

Glancing up at him, she pulls away, a smile tugging at her lips. "I wanted you to mark me. Just give me a moment to enjoy it, my brother."

He lets her keep his hand, absently toying with her fingers between his as he lay back against the pillows. “You will have to go back to him, before he misses you.”

She glares at him with a hard, steady look. Her fingers still as she speaks, "I don't care for him, he is not the one I love." Her face softens as she adds, "But yes soon I shall have to leave."

A bitter smile plays on his lips as his heart tries to decide which pull is greater, what is right and what no longer cares is wrong. Impulsively, he tightens his hand around her waist, their fingers entwined as he pulls her closer, making her catch her breath. “Go but go to him with me still clinging to your skin. I would have you in his bed, remembering how you were in mine.”

Lucrezia smiles almost cruelly at the thought of her husband laying next to her while she has her brothers seed over her skin. The only thing she'd want more is to lie here all night in her brother’s arms. Pulling him down towards her, she whispers breathily against his lips. "Know that each and every thought I have is of you."

“And I, you but you know that already,” Cesare reasons, eyes flicking towards her, frowning as it becomes a question in his mind. Surely she must know, it is fast becoming undeniable, even to him.

"Of course dear Cesare, I merely want you to remember that while we are forced away from one another." She runs her fingers gently across his forehead to try and smooth the frown away. When that doesn't work she presses a kiss there as though blessing him.

Her touch soothes him, like only she can. He nods, catching her hand and pressing it to his lips, kissing the tips. He wants to pretend it won't be forever but he cannot lie to her. Not even when she looks at him like she’s reading his mind, chasing his thoughts away.

"You'll have to come to Rome soon," he says instead. "For father to crown your new king. Hopefully this one will be more to your liking even if it cannot be your husband."

Lucrezia hums as she glances away from him. She has told him many times before; no husband will be to her liking. No husband would even remotely match up to her Cesare. No other man can ignite her blood or understand her like him.

"Come, sweet sister, it is not so terrible as you think." He catches her chin, turning her back towards him. He could not bear to see her troubled so.

Glaring at her brother with fire in her eyes, she shakes her head. "Not as terrible as I think? You aren't the one having to marry men you do not love."

"No," Cesare says, holding her stare and all the weight it carries, refusing to let her frustration at her circumstances ruin the little time they had left. "I only had to marry God and that was quite the annulment."

Sighing, she lays her hand across his cheek and presses her lips to his in acquiescence. She knows that it hasn't been easy for him either.

“Peace, then?” he asks gently. “No more husbands, no more wives and certainly no more God. Not for tonight.”

"Peace brother, let us just enjoy our few moments together."

And for a moment, he knows it. Peace. For a few moments, with her head resting on his chest. With his hands running through her hair. 

He dreams of her, of Abelard and Heloise. Of every lover that ever had their hearts forcibly broken. He didn't wake when she left him, he didn't feel her go but when he woke alone, the silk scarf draped across his chest, he smiled. It was not yet morning; she had gone back to him still covered in his seed.

Closing his eyes again, he twists in the covers that still had her perfume, her sweat, her scent on them. He'd have to talk to her again. Put a stop to this again. But not tonight.


End file.
